“Keep moving forward, and you’ll be able to see them, hear their voices.”
That’s what Zero said, but she couldn’t come along, because she and the Shrine were on the same plane—if she went in, they would see her.
But since I’m in reality, they won’t be able to see me, right?
With a hint of nervousness, Ella tried to recall the normal scene from earlier as she walked toward the Shrine in front of her.
She had barely taken a few steps when she stumbled, almost tripped by the momentum of the Great White Rabbit.
“Ouch, why is there a step at the entrance of the Shrine? Ugh, it’s all because my chest is too big, I can’t see my feet.”
A perfectly reasonable excuse—surely they wouldn’t suspect anything.
She raised her hand slightly; there was nothing visible in front of her, but the sensation in her hand told her there was a door here, probably the main door of the Ruined Temple.
She pushed it open a bit and slipped inside.
There were no obstacles in reality, but in the Netherworld Vision before her eyes, she was just now stepping into the Temple of Yore.
Floating water plants drifted in the air, tides as omnipresent as mist, and everywhere she looked, Undead Laborers were working.
Most of them were humanoid, their time of death unclear, their faces swollen—most likely drowned.
“How long do we have to keep doing this…”
The endless lament poured from their lips, who knew how many years it had echoed.
The drowned Laborers never stopped hauling bricks, trying to repair the Shrine that had once been destroyed, but their efforts seemed to make no visible difference.
Ella carefully took a step forward, noticed no one was looking at her, so she took another, and another, step by step crossing the outer corridor until she saw the situation inside the inner hall.
It had been destroyed once before, and the inside wasn’t much better than the outside.
Besides murals with various religious motifs and things like an Altar, the whole place was still in ruins.
But there were some unusual figures here—judging by their attire, they were probably Priests of the Sea Monster.
Suddenly, by the Altar, a Fish-headed Priest turned around.
Ella was startled, clutching her chest and blurting out,
“Ah! Why are there mice in the Shrine? You scared me to death.”
Being a cute, soft, big-breasted girl, it was perfectly normal to be afraid of mice. Surely she hadn’t blown her cover.
But the fish-head wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he spoke in this direction, “You’ve already received the Grace of Him, so stop being so timid. Just focus on your own task!”
Beside him, a Naga Priestess nodded meekly in agreement.
Her lower body was an extremely long serpent tail, the scales shining brightly—a clear rank above the ordinary Naga outside.
But here, her status was low, and she looked bullied and downtrodden.
So he was talking to her, not me?
Ella pretended to reach for something, her hand passing right through the Naga Priestess’s body.
The other party didn’t react at all, and neither did any of the other Priests present. It was as if they hadn’t even seen this “glitch.”
That confirmed it—they couldn’t see her.
Even though they were at the same spot, they were on different phases, their eyes unable to pierce the veil between life and death.
“Do we really not need to do anything? Just stand guard here?”
“Yes, I’ve said it many times. Stand guard here, wait for His Descent, and then everything will be over.”
The Fish-headed Priest was still working on the Naga Priestess’s mentality.
“Don’t worry about what comes next. When He leaves, He’ll take us back to His Divine Kingdom, which is definitely better than reality.”
Really?
The Naga Priestess hesitated, wanting to say something but not daring to.
That kind of talk might fool ordinary Sirens, but they lived in the Netherworld gap every day—they knew exactly where they’d go after death.
In the cold, dark River of the Yellow Springs, there was only eternal silence.
But what could she do?
The Grace of Him had already been bestowed, and her life only had a few hours left. She might as well do what she must.
The Fish-headed Priest stepped forward to observe the heavens.
“One more hour, and the Prophecy of the Stars’ Return will come to pass. He will descend. Even though our plan failed and His Descent will last less than a minute, our shame must be cleansed.”
“That’s right!” the Bristled Priest beside him gurgled, “Kill that pink-haired human girl and her companions, then crush Harbor City to dust!”
***
The atmosphere in the Shrine rose a notch. A dozen Priests now stood united, having found a common enemy.
That damned pink-haired human girl dared to ruin decades of their scheming—she should prepare to face the wrath of God!
Ella quietly wiped the fragrant sweat from her forehead. Only now did she realize—
This is all aimed at me.
From the Priests’ conversation, it was clear the Currency War had indeed ruined their plot—decades of effort destroyed overnight.
But like a centipede that doesn’t die even when cut, they couldn’t achieve their grand goal, but after so many years of preparation, they could still set off a final firework, vent their anger.
And the target of their anger—was her.
She found a place to sit and, no longer caring about keeping up appearances, let her mind race, desperately searching for a way to survive.
It seemed destroying the Shrine was a must.
But how could she destroy it?
She was a living person—they could see her, but couldn’t hit her.
The Necromantic Sword could harm the Undead, but the Shrine was a building; it wouldn’t be affected by soul damage.
The Undead Minor Catastrophe might work—the Undead and the Shrine were on the same phase. But there were so many Priests guarding this place.
Think, think.
As Ella anxiously wrung her small hands, a Priest suddenly cried out, “Not good! They’ve moved!”
In the Temple of Yore, the only ones who could be called “they” were a few girls specially marked by God—truly dangerous individuals.
The Priests’ expressions changed.
The Fish-headed Priest rushed to the Altar.
“What did you see?”
“A revelation from God. The Swordswoman and the Magician have left their usual spot and are heading out, and their goal is clear.”
The Bristled Priest wiped his sweat.
“They usually rest in one place every night, but tonight’s behavior is very unusual!”
Hearing this, Ella tilted her head, pondering.
The Swordswoman and the Magician—could it be Celes and Vina?
On such a critical night, with only an hour left before everything fell apart, not a single detail could be overlooked.
The Priests in the Shrine were instantly on high alert.
Yes, why were these dangerous people running around outside instead of sleeping at night?
“Where did they go?” the Fish-headed Priest asked calmly.
“I’m watching, receiving the revelation from God…”
The Bristled Priest closed his eyes, and after a long moment, slowly said, “They seem to be heading toward a Ruined Temple at the edge of the city.”
Ella was slightly stunned.
They’re coming here soon? Why? Are they following me?
At that moment, the downtrodden Naga Priestess spoke up weakly, “Um, the Shrine’s reflection in the real plane seems to be just a Ruined Temple.”